Innocent Sleep
by Laume
Summary: In the aftermath of a skirmish, Cadfael discovers that some of his favorite remedies may have nasty drawbacks
1. Chapter 1

"And of this you are certain?" Abbot Radulfus asked.

"Yes, Father," The Deputy Sheriff confirmed, "As sure as we can be. Robert FitzGerald was murdered two weeks ago. His murderers have made their way up north and were last seen but twenty miles from here. With the festivities for Saint Winifred close, when there will be so many people travelling through here the circumstances are ideal for them to restock their supplies and make for Wales. Once they are out of our jurisdiction they can make their way to the mainland. There are those in France who would not be as grieved by FitzGerald's untimely departure as his wife and sons undoubtedly are."

"Aye, the poor woman. I trust provisions have been made for her and the boys?"

"Very little, from what I understand," Hugh admitted, "He has long remained neutral in the current conflict and neutrality is not always appreciated. The Empress had barred him from most of his lands, leaving his widow and sons with barely enough to live on. And with David too young to petition for his fathers lands to be returned to him…"

"I shall write to her," the Abbot decided, "and offer to take in and educate the boys here. That should provide some relief. Meanwhile, give the description of the murderers to Brother Porter; he will know to keep an eye out. I assume you will increase the number of guards?"

"By your leave, my Lord, I shall. It is not my intention to disrupt the festivities in any way – the soldiers shall be given strict instructions not to hinder the pilgrims or behave in an unseemly fashion – but a man has been most foully and cowardly slain and no matter where his allegiances, I would see justice done if at all possible."

"On that, I concur," Radulfus nodded, "and inform Brother Cadfael as well. He has an eye for anything abnormal and a tendency to run into mysteries such as these. It would be a shame to waste his talents."

"Or an extra eye, that may go without suspicion where my soldiers and I can't," Hugh nodded, "Do I have your permission then, Father, to call upon Cadfael's skills should the need arise?"

"Inform him he has dispensation from all offices and duties while assisting you in this matter. I shall leave it to his own conscience not to take advantage of this.

ssssssssssssssssss

"Leave to assist you?" Cadfael smirked as he hang out freshly harvested herbs to dry. "What have you told Father Abbot to get such a carte blanche for me?"

"Merely that I feel strongly about catching these murderers, and I hinted a little strongly perhaps that with your assistance they should be caught all the sooner."

"Very well, very well. It is indeed a most foul deed and I should like to see it resolved. I fear though, that for the present we can do little but keep our eyes open. After all it is likely, but by no means guaranteed that they should pass this way."

"Where else could they be as effectively concealed as here? Playing the part of pilgrims during the feast for the Saint? It would not be the first time, or the last I daresay, that people joined the festivities with less than devout motivation."

ssssssssss

The Feast of Saint Winifred this year brought not only the usual pilgrims, but also two monks from an abbey in the south, escorts for three little boys. Cadfael was the first to happen upon them, as he walked from Saint Giles back to the Abbey. A boy ran past him, fell and hurt his knees and hands. Another Benedictine soon hurried towards them just as Cadfael picked up the child to inspect the damage.

"Brother, a good thing you were here. The little one keeps escaping our care…"

The boy, no more than four or perhaps five winters old, blonde and blue-eyed, glared at the monk.

"I want to go find Father, you hided him!" he accused.

The monk sighed. "We did no such thing, child."

Aside to Cadfael he explained, "These are the sons of Robert FitzGerald."

Cadfael nodded in understanding. "Then indeed this Brother has not concealed your father, child. He is with God and His angels."

"God can't have him, he's _my_ father, not God's!" the little heretic exclaimed.

"Aye, child, I imagine you do want him back. Unfortunately that is not for you, or me, or this kind brother to decide. Be assured your father may see you still. After all, who is to know how much the dead are still aware of the happenings on this earth."

He patted the boys head and lifted him in his arms.

"You are a brave child, for not crying when you are obviously hurt. A brave little knight. Come, the Abbey is but a quarter mile from here. In the infirmary I can clean those knees and hands. They'll need salve and bandaging."

"The Abbot informed us we would have new additions to our schoolboys. Brother Paul will have charge of them, and you won't find a better person for the task."

"That is good, they need a kind hand. They saw it, you know. Robert had taken the boys with him when he went to inquire after a horse he considered buying. The boys were the delight of his life and they adored him in return. He was stabbed in the back, with the boys present."

"Truly? That is most unforgivable. The elder, I believe, is named David?"

"Yes. He will be seven soon. The younger you are carrying is Robert, four years old last harvest time. The middle one, who will be six at the feast of the Birth of our Lord, is Gerald."

They reached the Abbey and in the infirmary Cadfael, who had carried the little one in, expertly cleaned and bandaged the scraped knees and hands.

"I will go inform the Abbot of your safe arrival," Cadfael wiped his hands and stood up, "no doubt when he has greeted you, Brother Paul will be taking the boys."

ssssssssssssssss

Pilgrims flooded both town and monastery and the monks were hard pressed to find room for them all. The guest quarters were reserved for the important arrivals, the infirmary was overflowing with the sick and disabled. Cadfael and Edmund worked tirelessly to tend to everything from accidents by the road to permanent disabilities.

In between runs to and from his hut, Cadfael kept, as promised, and eye out for the described men. Hugh patrolled wit his men, hidden from direct view but always there.

"Nothing yet?" Cadfael asked, late one afternoon as he took a break from running to and fro.

"Nothing," said Hugh in frustration.

"It is possible they simply did not want to run the risk of discovery here," Cadfael pointed out.

Just then, three blonde boys scampered towards them, one of them dirty and dishevelled.

"What have you boys been up to? Had Brother Paul not told you these courtyards are off limits to the schoolboys for the duration of the festival?"

"He was there," Gerald shuddered, "the man who killed Father."

"I fought with him," David proudly, and grimly relayed, "I tore a button of his tunic and I bit his hand. Here," he showed a small silver button with a flower design.

Hugh and Cadfael stared, excited to finally discover the whereabouts of the fugitives and then flooded with absolute horror as they realized what danger the children had been in.

Cadfael quickly motioned over one of the elder novices while Hugh interrogated the boys.

"Where? When? What does he wear?"

"A green tunic, with buttons like these," David said, "and he has a sword with a green stone in the hilt."

"And you bit his hand, you say. Hard?" Hugh asked.

"I drew blood," David admitted, "He was angry and shook me so I bit him. I don't thin he knew who I was."

"Praise the Lord he didn't," Cadfael said, "or this could have ended in tragedy. Take the boys to Father Abbot. Tell him they must be kept safe with him until the Lord Beringar or myself return. He will understand. Bring them immediately and avoid the areas with pilgrims. Go now, quickly. We will find that man, boys, and now you must obey. Let us deal with him. Do not slip away again."

The four made their way to the Abbot's house. Hugh sent one of his men to find Will Warden and then the two made their way into the infirmary, where they suspected the man would have gone with such a bite.

Cadfael entered first, to warn Edmund. He would not be a suspicious presence, being in the infirmary so often.

Indeed, a man in a green tunic was seen on one of the stools, his hand being cleaned and bandaged by an aid.

"Everything going well here?" Cadfael asked, inspecting the hand, "Oh, that looks nasty. Make sure to put a disinfecting ointment on it."

"Thank you, brother," the man replied.

Cadfael waved it away. "Not at all, not at all. It is our Christian duty to look after our fellow men. Particularly if they are here alone."

"Oh, I am not alone. My brother has come with me – he awaits there, so as not to hinder the good brothers in their task."

"How thoughtful of him," Cadfael surreptiously inspected the tunic. Of the silver buttons, one of the lowest was missing – the height a seven year old could reach.

He stepped back a little and disappeared into the shadows near Hugh.

"It is him. His accomplish, apparently his brother, is standing there. He has his hand in the ointment now and will not be able to draw easily, but the brother may be more dangerous. Be careful, Hugh, there's not much room to avoid a blade."

Will Warden arrived, and informed Hugh in hushed tones that the exits had all been secured. He and Alan would approach the man in green, while Hugh arrested his brother.

Later, Cadfael would know only through his long experience what must have happened as it all went too quick for the naked eye to see.

The injured man was apprehended easily, but the brother reacted strongly, putting a number of injured between himself and Hugh and drawing a dagger, not caring who he might hit. Hugh, of course, did care that he might hit someone. He had to step carefully. For one instant he looked down to secure his footing and in that moment the dagger struck. He moaned, but Alan and Will who had already bound their prey came to his aid, catching and securing the man as Hugh landed a huge blow to his jaw that made him stumble back. Then he sagged down to the floor.

Cadfael was with him in a trice, carefully assessing the damage. Hugh's breath came in short pants and he moaned when Cadfael cut off his tunic. The gash was deep and for a moment Cadfael feared it had sliced the lung. He inspected Hugh's mouth and nose, but there was no blood coming up with his breaths.

Slightly relieved, Cadfael began to examine the wound.

"You foolish, foolish boy," he scolded, "I warned you. Now let me see…no, move your hands."

Edmund came near. "Should we not find him a bed?"

"Take him to my own bed," Cadfael said, "there is little room to work here."

Just as Cadfael was preparing to bandage the wound, the Abbot, having been briefed of the situation by Will Warden, entered the room.

"How is he?" he asked without preamble and a worried frown on his face.

"Well, it is bad, Father. We should thank the Lord that the dagger missed most organs, but the wound is large and deep. I am worried."

"As you should be, he is a close friend," the Abbot lay his hand on Hugh's forehead in silent prayer and blessing, "can he be moved to his home?"

"It is preferable that he does not stay here with the number of sick we have at the moment, but he will need a lot of care – more than Aline can give him."

"Then go with him, Cadfael. Stay in town until he is on the mend. How do you want to move him? I shall find aid for you."

"He must be moved slowly and with as little jarring as possible so the wound is not aggravated. Carefully carried by four strong man on a stretcher would be best. Someone should be sent ahead to notify Aline…"

"It shall be taken care of. Have your novice get whatever you need from your workshop and the infirmary. We shall remember the Lord Beringar in our prayers in the days to come."

"He will need that," Cadfael felt the rapid pulse. Hugh opened his eyes briefly, looking around in confusion.

"Cad…Ca'fael…"

"Shhhh," the monk soothed in the same tones as he had used but days ago for the four year old, "Rest now. We'll bring you home to Aline soon."

He procured a phial of poppy juice and slowly let his friend sip it. "Sleep. The journey will be difficult no matter how slow we take it and you are better off if you are not awake for it."

He shook his head. "You'll be the death of me yet, boy, with stunts like these."


	2. Chapter 2

"But Cadfael, surely I am well enough to get up now?" Hugh Beringar, Sheriff and brave soldier of King Stephen whined like an eight year old.

"Not until I say so," Cadfael repeated for the tenth time that day alone, "That wound of yours has felled men before, and you were very lucky to survive! And don't give me that look. You are in a lot more pain that you want to admit to either me _or_ Aline."

The younger man sighed and leaned back into his pillows, unconsciously pressing one arm to his side as he did so, a move that told Cadfael he had been spot-on.

"It is just so frustrating to lay here and do nothing while the times are so troubled that there is always work that needs doing," Hugh admitted.

"I know, but they will have to make do without you for a while longer. Centuries have come and gone before you were born, my boy, and probably will long after you depart from this earth, so it will manage another fortnight now."

"Still 'boy', is it?" Hugh managed a pained smile, "you only ever called me that when you were displeased with me."

Cadfael frowned. "Well I am! First you risk your neck apprehending that villain, and now you keep trying to escape my care whenever I turn my back!"

Hugh grasped his friend's hand. "I know, and I am sorry. I have been taking out my frustration on you and Aline unfairly. Forgive me?" he begged with wide eyes and an expression on his face that he knew never failed to soften Cadfael.

Cadfael smiled, fully aware he was being manipulated but content to let it happen. "I do understand your frustration, Hugh, but I would not want you to suffer reopening that wound or infecting it. I shall make you a bargain. Stay in bed today and tomorrow without complaint or attempts to escape, and I shall promise to let you up the day after tomorrow, perhaps walk around the house if you feel well enough."

Hugh nodded his agreement.

"Now, I want you to sleep a little more."

"Can't," Hugh groaned, "side stings."

"And I thought you wanted to get up?"

"So I was a little overeager."

"So you were." Cadfael shook his head. "I will give you a little poppy juice mixed in some mead, but no more."

"It's good medicine though."

"It is. however like all medicine it is intended to be used in moderation."

Sipping the mead, and eyes already closing, Hugh simply allowed himself to be drawn into the heavy slumber that would undoubtedly occupy most of the day.

Aline entered. "Is he asleep?"

"Yes, girl, he is, you can safely enter now," a slight smirk played on Cadfael's lips.

"It is not that I do not love him," Aline's eyes sparkled, "but honestly, if he were Giles I'd have sent him to his room for whining so much. Of course, he already is in his room…"

"Yes, and that is the whole problem. We struck a bargain and he should give us no more trouble until the day after tomorrow."

"He is in so much more pain than he lets on," Aline stroked her husband's face lovingly, "my brave Hugh."

"Sometimes I wish he were a little less brave and a little more willing to submit to treatment when he needs it," Cadfael admitted ruefully, "but it is a good sign. The fear of infection has not yet left me completely, but I am hopeful he will come through this safely, as usual."

ssssssss

Five days later found Hugh sitting in a chair, propped up with pillows, near the fire. His first forays into the house had gone very well and Cadfael now allowed him out of bed for a few hours during the day.

The dark eyes watched Cadfael pack his scrip. "Must you return already? Aline and I rather like having you here, and I doubt Giles will let you go."

"You are doing much better, the wound is closing properly and I will be by every day to check on you and change the bandage. Radulfus has been most lenient allowing me to stay, but I must return home."

Hugh sighed. "I suppose you must. But what if the wound keeps me up at night and I can't sleep? Or what if my wife and child need me and I can't reach them?"

Cadfael resisted rolling his eyes. "I shall leave some poppy juice you can use when you can't sleep. Use it only when you need it. Aline is quite capable and there are always the servants to help her. If there really is a problem send a message and I will be here as soon as possible. Really, Hugh, it is not like you to be so insecure."

"I suppose." Hugh looked down for a moment before catching Cadfael's eye with his own old grin again. "Now go, shoo. If you hurry you will be just in time for Brother Jerome's pre-chapter lecture."

"Saints spare me," Cadfael raised his eyes to the heavens imploringly, "I keep my patience only by reminding myself that some things are on this earth solely to test and try us."

ssssssss

Abbot Radulfus looked pleased to see Cadfael enter the gates just as he was on his way to chapter.

"Ah, brother, welcome back. I trust you left Lord Beringar well?"

"Well and on the mend, Father. I have to ask your leave to tend to him daily for the next fortnight or so, but he should continue to recover with no problems."

"I am pleased," the Abbot smiled, "our prayers have been answered then. I would ask you to relay this fortunate news at chapter."

"Certainly, Father. I shall need to confer with Brother Edmund about the supplies for the infirmary and Saint Giles – I am behind on my brewing, I fear, and I dare not even think about the state of my gardens."

"I think you will find your gardens in better state than you suspect," the Abbots smile widened, "it seems three small boys have taken it upon themselves, under guidance of brother Oswin, to tend to it."

"Father?" Cadfael asked in surprise.

"Our new students, Robert FitzGerald's sons. The elder told me, when I happened upon them in your garden, that they owe you and the Lord Sheriff a debt of gratitude for avenging their father's murder when they could not. Young David is a very intense boy – too intense for his own good perhaps, but I trust under Paul's tutelage his character will be rounded out and mellowed over time."

"Paul has a way with the young ones," Cadfael nodded, "but it was but our duty to look for these villains. The children owe no debt for that."

"Ah, you and I know that, and Hugh Beringar will feel the same, but it would wound the little ones pride for it to be received with acknowledgement that they have indeed acquitted themselves of the debt. Pride that is too strong or misplaced is a sin, but hopefully these boys still have a future as nobles – they will need that sense of honor then."

"Is there news on the lands?"

"I am considering a course of action. The mother has written me, asking me to assume guardianship over the children since there are no other relatives who can do so. I am writing every contact of influence we still have in the Empress' camp, like Olivier de Bretagne, to petition her on the children's behalf."

"She will not be pleased to return lands to heirs who will be raised in Stephen's camp."

"True, but at least Abbeys are considered somewhat neutral parties," the Abbot grimly stated, "even though we cannot avoid the conflict. At any rate, granting this will win her favour with both her own followers. A few…hints…left and right that keeping those lands will almost certainly allow three boys to grow up as enemies to her cause…"

"They are very young, and she needs funds now."

"Yes, but she needs goodwill more. I am hoping that will influence her decision. If it comes to the worst, we will at least make certain the children have a good education to further themselves in the world."

sssssssss

Ten days later Cadfael no longer deemed it necessary to make daily trips to see how Hugh was doing. The wound was closed with no signs of infection, and time now would cure the rest.

Hugh did complain about sleeplessness, which Aline confirmed, so Cadfael left a small phial of poppy juice with Aline, again telling her to mix only a little of it in some wine or mead when needed.

A week after that he heard the familiar footsteps approach his workshop, slower and less sure footed than they had been, but he was pleased to hear them none the less.

"Cadfael," Hugh smiled, "my first slightly longer trip in weeks. I thought I'd come visit."

"I am glad you did," Cadfael beamed, "do sit down. Share some wine with me – I am very busy but I can spare a few moments. How is your wound?"

"Closed, and itching. The muscles are pulling as well." Hugh obediently pulled up his shirt to let Cadfael inspect the scar.

"Ah, that is to be expected," Cadfael nodded in approval when he saw the still vividly red but closed scar, "the itching is a sign that it is healing properly. There's little to be done about it, I fear, but give you the reassurance that it should not last long."

"That is good to hear," Hugh drank, "though it is still hard to sleep and the itching is not helping. In a few days I will join my men on some patrols in town – nothing trying for now, but it will be good to work again. I could do with a few good night's sleep before then."

"No doubt you could, but I will not give you more poppy juice. Medicins are good when used in moderation, and better when not used at all."

"Says the man who makes them," Hugh shifted uneasily, "but if I am to end up in another such skirmish – it is unlikely, but one can never know – and I am half mad from lack of sleep, the next time my opponent's dagger might not miss my heart."

"Then avoid such skirmishes," Cadfael said mildly, "there are other methods to encourage sleep. Warm milk, or some mead before bed." He looked up as if he had an epiphany. "Have Aline sing to you as she does to Giles. If it works for the boy it might work for you."

Hugh scowled. "She would, too, if I let her."

"Massaging, a little music…all natural things that induce drowsiness."

"Please, Cadfael."

"Why, I have even heard that entertaining intimate relationships with one's wife at night ensures a good night's sleep…"

"CADFAEL! Please…?"

"I will give you some herbs to make a tea from," Cadfael said, getting a short knife and cutting several leaves from herb bushels hanging from the ceiling, "here. Boil in hot water, let stew for a few moments and drink the extract."

The younger man sighed. "If you are certain it will work…"

"They are native plants, but a much safer option than taking so much poppy juice. Drink the tea, have Aline rub your shoulders before bed and sing or play to you while you fall asleep, and you'll see you will feel better very soon."

sssssss

A fortnight passed. Radulfus had sent petitions to every one of note he knew in the Empress's camp.

The answer came, and quite quickly.

The Empress had, as expected, denied the request.

"That was not unexpected," Radulfus said to Cadfael, with whom he could better speak of politics than any other in the cloister, "but it is not the only news. It seems FitzGerald had friends in the Empress's camp as well, and she allowed his friends to purchase land here. She made a donation to this cause…"

"As that would undoubtedly cost her much less than giving up the lands," Cadfael nodded.

"Quite. But, until Stephen is king and returns it, or the lady has a change of heart and fortune, it is the best we can do. With the donation and that of FitzGerald's friends, we should be able to purchase an appropriate manor for the boys, which with good stewardship, and in these days mostly good luck, will prosper enough to leave them a nearly equal inheritance as their fathers when they come of age."

"Yes. The only question remains is how to divide it among the children," Cadfael remarked, "as to their ambitions, if indeed they are old enough to make any assumptions about that, brother Paul should know."

"I asked him to be here so we can decide what needs to be done. And then I would like you, Cadfael, to go out and make the purchase. There are several candidates – manors that now have no heir, due to the war, or stand abandoned."

Brother Paul entered. "You sent for me, Father?"

"Yes, Paul, please, do sit. We are discussing your latest charges. What do you think of them, so far? Lords of a manor, all three of them?"

Paul shook his head without hesitation. "Oh no. David will be, no doubt, if his lands can be returned to him. Gerald would be thoroughly unhappy as Lord of a manor. And little Robert is really too young, but he has the makings of a crusader more than a settled country baron."

"Indeed? And Gerald, what do you see for him?"

"A scholar, without any doubt," Paul answered, "I should not be surprised if he joins the church long before he is of age – perhaps even take the cowl. His handwriting is already exceptional and when he desires to know something – which is often – he will not rest until he has learned every detail."

Cadfael smiled, having been responsible for satisfying the persistent child's hunger for knowledge on several occasions.

"Not everyone has the patience to deal with a child like that," Paul frowned, "he has run afoul of Brother Jerome recently, who was most harsh with him. I do hope he is not in trouble? The child meant no harm and you know, Father, that Jerome can be somewhat impatient."

"I had not heard of the incident," Father Abbot said, "while his manners should be groomed, a curiosity to learn should not be quenched."

"Indeed it should not," Cadfael heartily agreed, "I have given him some small part of the gardens – a few square feet – to do his own experimenting with plant growing, since he is so eager to know of it. He has my leave to tend to his garden when he wishes, Paul, as long as he does not enter my workshop or disturb my garden."

"We shall purchase a manor then, for David, and set aside sums, as well as part of the manor's profits, for Gerald and Robert. It may be used to apprentice Gerald and find a Lord who will take Robert as a squire, should he so desire when he grows up. Keep me apprised of the boys' progress, Paul."

"So you are leaving for some time again," Edmund watched Cadfael pack his horse.

"Aye, I am. While I do not mind my forays into the world, I shall have to work hard to catch up when I return. Perhaps I should convince Father Abbot to apprentice the second little scamp to _me_," he muttered to himself.

He waved a greeting to Edmund and Brother Porter, and spurred his horse forwards, on a job that would undoubtedly take him away from the Abbey at least another fortnight again.


	3. Chapter 3

With the civil war raging, Cadfael pondered, as he sat on his horse, the wisdom of acquiring an English manor, even in the relatively safe Shropshire was debatable. He therefore felt justified to turn his back to England and towards the Welsh border. It had nothing to do with his love for the country, he told himself. None at all. Yet he could not deny the surge of pleasure that welled up inside him with the first person greeting him in the language of his youth.

As he travelled, a thought entered his mind – why would he not visit Gwytherin, now that he was in Wales, and had ample time? It could not possibly be sinful to want to visit Saint Winifred, close though he felt to her in Shrewsbury.

And so Cadfael rode into the lands surrounding Gwytherin, he saw the site where he had first seen Engelard at the plow, the place where he had witnessed Sioned's beauty.

Lazily he drifted in to town, stopping at the Smithy.

"Well, Bened," his lips quirking upward in a pleased smile that the smith hadn't bothered looking up and thus did not recognize Cadfael, "I see you returned home safely from your pilgrimage."

"Bless my heart! Brother Cadfael!" within moments, the smith was upon him.

"ANNEST! JOHN!" he yelled at the top of his lungs, and a large strong man appeared from the supply room of the smithy, his red curls waving in the slight breeze.

"CADFAEL!" John bellowed, pushing Bened away to engulf Cadfael in a bearhug that lifted him off the ground.

"Easy, boy, I'm not as young as I used to be," Cadfael cautioned, but his voice betrayed his delight.

A little redhaired boy appeared at John's knee.

"This is my eldest," John lifted the child for Cadfael's inspection, "We wanted to name him after you but there is already a little Cadfael running around – so we chose Rhisiart."

Cadfael stroked the red curls and the boy smiled at him. "Daddy says you're the best monk he knows," the child offered, actually making the old Benedictine blush.

"Oh, but Sioned and Engelard must see you! Rhys, run to Peredur ap Cadwallon's house, they are likely there."

"So no lasting conflict there?" Cadfael asked Bened.

"None at all. Peredur acted a bit awkwardly around them for a while, but they forgave him, and he lost any reserve once he found a nice girl of his own. They married last year, I heard only the other day that we can expect a little one there within a few moons. Sioned and Engelard are content living together, so Peredur slowly is taking over the position Rhisiart once held."

"Ah, that is good to hear," Cadfael settled happily on the bench and accepted a mug from Annest, who had her youngest on her hip, a girl not yet a full year old. She gave the little one to Cadfael, who bounced the baby a little. The child laughed in delight, and at that moment her laugh was so like her father's that Cadfael became her devoted slave for life.

Young Rhisiart returned within the hour with Engelard and Peredur on his heels, who both greeted Cadfael with enthusiasm and much affection.

"Sioned is on her way," Engelard told him, "and your namesake is playing with the other boys – you will see him later. How wonderful to see you again, Cadfael! Pray tell, what brings you here? There's no problem arisen with what you and your brothers took with you, is there?"

Cadfael shook his head. "Not at all, I am on a mission from the Abbot that took me to Wales for a bit, and I longed to see you again – to visit Rhisiarts grave."

"So you shall, tomorrow," Peredur had grown into a strong, confident man, Cadfael saw, one who had learned from his mistakes and had worked on his shortcomings. "Tomorrow we will take you there, but tonight you must stay and feast with us, Cadfael! We feel like one of our own has come home after a long absence."

Later that night, after a most excellent meal Cadfael sat in contentment with his namesake, who would not be parted from his new hero, asleep on his lap.

"Your business for the Abbot," Engelard asked, "is it anything we can help with?"

"A country torn by strife is no safe place," Cadfael said, "especially not for the widow of a murdered man who leaves only confiscated lands and infant sons behind. These sons we now have in our care at the Abbey, and with the money the Empress after much pressure gave us in compensation we seek to buy them an inheritance – a manor for the eldest and sums to further whatever careers the younger pursue. Wales is the safer option. Who knows that a manor bought now in England will not have changed hands a dozen times before the boy comes of age? At the same time settling an English lord on Welsh land by design is no mean feat either."

"It is ironic that England now thinks of Wales as the safer," Peredur grinned, "considering our history. You are in luck, Cadfael. Prince Owain is not far from here and I have his ear. I have hinted, from time to time, that Gwytherin owes much to a Welsh monk from an English cloister. We can relay your story to him, and perhaps he will be sympathetic to the plight of these children."

"But not so soon," Annest pleaded, "you have leave, have you not, Cadfael?"

"I have used up some time already," Cadfael admitted, "But our Abbot has taken an interest in the future of the boys and thus if the outcome is good, I can justify a little delay."

sssssssssssss

Cadfael knelt at the gravesite where Rhisiart and Winifred rested side by side, laying his hand on the earth in silent caress.

"So here you remain," he said softly, "though you feel close to me at home as you do now. Is that a sign, perhaps, that you approve?"

There was no answer but the soft whispering of the grass and the breeze that stroke his cheek, yet Cadfael felt at peace.

ssssssssssss

The next morning Cadfael and Peredur set out to meet with Prince Owain, who willingly granted their request for an audience.

"Ah, Peredur ap Cadwallon, and is this perhaps the monk you told me about?"

"Indeed he is," Peredur replied, "he is on an unusual mission for his Abbey. I beg you, my Lord, to lend him your ear."

"Most certainly," Owain seemed in a good mood, "do tell, brother."

Cadfael regaled the tale of how the Abbey came into custody of the three boys, and how they managed to extract at least some compensation for the confiscated lands.

"Ah," Owain shook his head, "a sorry tale. Woe the man who dies when his heirs are in their cradle! What was his name, again?"

"Robert FitzGerald," Cadfael replied, "an English nobleman, although I've been told he has some Welsh blood in his line."

Owain sat up. "Indeed he does. His mother was the illegitimate daughter of a great uncle of mine and an English woman. My family provided a substantial dowry to marry her to another man who she did perhaps not love, but respected. Not able to have children of his own, he accepted her daughter as his own. So Robert FitzGerald and his sons are distant kin."

"That brings me to my request. Buying land in England is a risky business. My thoughts, naturally, turned to Wales. Is there anything you can do for them? We have a sum available to purchase…"

"They are kin, however distant," Owain said firmly, "with the misfortunes that befell them I feel partly responsible to see them grow up well. What were your plans, Brother?"

"To buy a manor for the eldest to inherit," Cadfael responded, "and to set aside sums for the younger two."

Thus negotiations began that lasted for several hours. In the end, a proposition was agreed upon to send to Abbot Radulfus for approval that greatly pleased both Owain and Cadfael. Owain would receive the sum the Abbey had managed to extract and add onto that. He would ensure lands for David and would see to it that Gerald received a thorough education. He also offered to keep Robert at his court as a squire should the boy indeed grow up as Paul had predicted. If not, another solution would be found. In return the Abbey would educate the boys for three more years until David was ten, then they would come to live at Owain's court to be taught the language, traditions and law of Wales. Cadfael would begin their lessons while they were still at the Abbey. Guardianship would rest with both Owain and the Abbot. Owain would also pay an annuity to the boys mother, and she would be free to come live in Wales if she so desired.

Writing a letter to Radulfus with a copy of the proposal included, a runner was sent off to the Abbey and Cadfael was to wait in Gwytherin for the answer. Then he would finalize the agreement as a representative of the Abbey. It would be more common for the Prior to sign it, but apparently Owain had learned of the man's behaviour in Gwytherin when they came for the Saint. Even though he had given the monks his permission to take the saint, the manner in which the Prior had gone about winning the approval of the town didn't sit well with the Prince. Cadfael, as a fellow Welshman, would suffice as a witness.

Business thus concluded to his satisfaction, Cadfael was happy to enjoy the hospitality of Sioned and Engelard a little longer and have an opportunity to spend time with John and his children.

Before long the answer came. Radulfus was pleased with the arrangement and gave it his full endorsement. The Abbot thanked the Prince and informed them in his letter that the money was on its way with a secure guard by the time his reply arrived. Thus Cadfael signed, said his goodbyes to Gwytherin and at last turned his feet towards home. He had been gone much longer than intended, but it had been well worth the effort.

He only hoped Edmund didn't have too long a list of medicines he needed.


	4. Chapter 4

Cadfael entered the gates late at night, tired after having rode on hard to get back.

"Cadfael! You're back!"

"Aye, I am," Cadfael stiffly dismounted, "ooohhh…my old bones…"

Edmund the infirmirer shook his head. "Honestly. Well, go to bed. No getting up for offices tonight, that's an order. You can report to Father Abbot in the morning."

Cadfael made his way to his bed and just collapsed. He didn't even hear his brothers rise for offices that night, but he still was up just in time for Prime, albeit grudgingly and stiffly.

Radulfus noticed his return and smiled, indicating they would speak later. Sure enough, after the office had been concluded and the brethren got themselves ready for chapter, Radulfus pulled Cadfael aside.

"I was most pleased with the outcome of your journey," he started, "and grateful for Prince Owains easy cooperation. The force that drove you to Wales must have foreseen this outcome."

Cadfael nodded. "I felt the desire to revisit the place where we found Saint Winifred. One of the inhabitants has some influence with Owain and was pleased to exert it on our behalf. The Saint blessed the enterprise for Owain was most agreeable. Though I do not doubt Paul will be loathe to let the children go in three years."

They shared a fond smile, both of them holding the schoolmaster in high esteem. "I have announced that an agreement was in the making and I had no objections, but I left the exact terms and arrangements to you to detail in chapter."

The Prior and brother Jerome had permanent scowls on their face throughout Cadfael's report and detailing of the arrangements, but they were steadily ignored by both Cadfael and the Abbot.

"So – the boys will stay here another three years and be Paul's responsibility, Cadfael will teach them Welsh. Their future has been secured, for which I am grateful, and by a noble Lord such as Prince Owain no less."

"Did it have to be in Wales, though," Prior Robert primly asked, "were your instructions not to find a manor in English territory?"

Radulfus raised an eyebrow. "Cadfael has arranged for a much more secure future than we could ever have. The boys are kin, however distant, to Prince Owain and shall be raised at a royal court, much better connected than they would be as simple lords of a manor. I have heartily approved of his efforts."

"He was gone for a long time," Robert pointed out, "a strict regime to drive out any outside influences he has picked up must be followed, to be sure. Perhaps restriction to a cell…"

Radulfus now looked plainly annoyed.

"Brother Prior, do you not think that the spiritual welfare of the brethren is safe in my hands? If I do not deem it necessary, why do you question me? Cadfael has assured me he kept the offices whenever possible on his journey, and of all people in this house he is the one I am least worried about being influenced by the outside world, as he voluntarily turned from it. I think our brother is to be commended for fulfilling so well a mission I gave him, not punished for imagined misdeeds!"

Suitably chastised, Prior Robert left immediately at the end of chapter, Jerome at his heels. Paul went to find his charges and inform them of the things that were important to them now.

ssssssssssss

"Brother Cadfael…I…I really need to talk to you," Brother Oswin whispered to him as they left for the workshop.

"What is it, lad?" Cadfael strolled into his garden contently, happy to be home and content in the knowledge that out there in Wales, John and Annest, Engelard and Sioned, Peredur and his wife, were thriving.

"I…I had problems…during your absence," Oswin stared at his sandals, "and I don't understand…not at all!"

"Well sit down, boy, and tell me," Cadfael encouraged, opening the door to his workshop and breathing in the spicy scents.

"You see…brother…I closed and bolted the workshop behind me every time I left, like you told me to," Oswin began.

"Good boy," Cadfael nodded in approval, beginning to collect the ingredients for some of the more common medicines Edmund needed.

"Yes…but…Cadfael, the first time I came here and the door was open, I thought I had been careless."

"That happens to the best of us, no reason for concern. I take it you checked that the children hadn't accidentally wandered in?"

"Yes, and they hadn't. I mean, they wouldn't, either, but I still asked. So a few days later it was unlocked again, and I knew, I knew I had been extremely careful to lock the door after I left. After that second time, I checked at least three times whenever I left that the door was locked, but twice more did I find it open in the morning."

Cadfael frowned. "And nothing taken?"

"Not that I could see, Brother," Oswin admitted, "do you think perhaps someone played a joke on me?"

"It is possible, of course, though as far as I am aware, besides you and I there are only a handful of people who could freely enter. Have you asked Edmund?"

"I did, brother, and he knew nothing of it. He was in here, but only once, and he swears he took utmost care to close and bolt the door again."

Cadfael looked concerned now. "You are certain nothing is missing?"

The young monk nodded, "I did an inventory each time, and nothing was missing…no herbs, no medicines, no jar was out of place."

The old Benedictine's mind spun into action. "So either someone did intend to play a prank or you, or it was someone who knows my workshop well."

He began to move around. "Open the door and windows, Oswin, let me see if I can find anything."

Oswin hastened to comply, and stood shifting from one foot to the other, trying to help while not being in Cadfael's way.

"Here…here," Cadfael muttered, "someone spilled here, you see? Have you checked the _contents_ of the jars, Oswin, to see if something was missing?"

"Not the contents, no, brother, but they all have the same weight they had when you left, I checked."

One by one, Cadfael took the jars from the shelves and checked the contents. Finally, with the last jar, his face fell.

"What is it, brother?"

Cadfael took the jar and poured out some of the contents. A whitish liquid poured out.

"Water, mixed with the remnants of the poppy juice the jar used to contain. Someone stole the poppy juice and filled up the rest of the jar with water. Tell me, Oswin, has anyone died while I was gone?"

"D-Died? No, brother! Could..could they have?"

"An overdose of this is very lethal," Cadfael looked pale, "did you notice anything else? If it didn't kill…is anyone acting strangely?"

"I don't think so, brother," Oswin shook his head, "I haven't noticed anything. Of course, I only go through town when I travel to Saint Giles, but I didn't hear anything. I would ask the Lord Sheriff, but he hasn't been here since you left."

"Well, we had better inform Father Abbot," Cadfael decided wearily, "we can't have someone running around with a lethal weapon in their possession, and no knowledge on how to use it."

sssssssss

Abbot Radulfus was most concerned when Cadfael told him of their suspicions.

"Is it certain it was stolen?" he asked.

"I see no alternative, Father. Neither Oswin, Edmund or myself would remove the poppy juice from that jar, and certainly not replace it with water to mimic the weight. The children have not been in the workshop, they swear, and at any rate, they could not have reached that shelf or handled the jar, it is quite heavy."

Radulfus leaned forward, steepling his fingers. "It is…not my place to accuse," he began hesitatingly, "but if you are looking for someone who has behaved different than usual…"

Cadfael nodded, "If not used for poisoning, and I believe it hasn't yet, since Oswin assured me no unexpected deaths have occurred, then either someone still has it in his or her possession, or is using it. Frankly, that concerns me. This potion is dangerous when too much is taken. That it is used to poison is unlikely, for my workshop holds many more lethal poisons and it is clear that whoever took the poppy juice knew where I store my various supplies. Nothing else has been disturbed. "

The Abbot nodded hesitatingly. "Brother Cadfael, since your departure I have not heard, nor seen, much of Hugh Beringar. Will Warden indicated he is still not very active after his injury, but when you left it had healed well and the Lord Beringar is not the kind of man who sits idle for no reason."

Seeing the blood suddenly drain from the other monk's face, he added, "It may well be the injury affected the Sheriff more than anticipated."

"He…he did ask me for poppy juice, even after the wound closed and he shouldn't have needed anymore," Cadfael felt as if he had entered a horrible nightmare, "I refused to give him more and sent him home with some less dangerous herbs to help him sleep…Hugh knows my workshop…"

"But he is not a thief," Radulfus remarked.

Cadfael sagged down on one of the benches in the Abbot's chambers. "No…but stronger men than he have become dependant on extracts of the poppy plant and came to actions that where wholly out of character for them. I – we must know for sure…because if he did steal it to use it, and managed not to kill himself but become dependant on it…then he must steal again, or his body will become violently ill demanding for more."

"If so…I pray we are incorrect, but if so, Cadfael, we must handle this with the utmost discretion."

A weak smile was his reward. "That presumably means I am not allowed to storm into town and shake some sense into the fool child? No, I didn't think so. He'll need help…Father, people have died from the shock of suddenly not taking the extract anymore. I must…must try to remember what I was told on how to handle it…"

"Let us go to town first, to confront him. His lady will need to be told as well."

sssssssss

It was clear, even in his befuddled state, that this was the end. He could no longer escape, now that Cadfael was back and knew what he had done. The Lord Abbot was even here. Somehow, somewhere, the part of his mind that was sensible sighed in relief, grateful that it was all over, one way or another.

Cadfael studied his friend. There was no doubt, even at first glance, that the Abbot had been right. Hugh already showed symptoms of the potion leaving his system. He was thin, pale and his hands shook.

"Oh, you foolish boy," he sighed, "what have you done?"

"I…sorry, Cadfael…needed…" he shivered. "Cold…"

Aline stood worriedly by. "Is he ill, Cadfael? Will he be alright? The wound – is it infected?"

Cadfael shook his head. "Father Abbot, could you please send out the servants? Give them orders to retrieve some things from my workshop – against vomiting and muscle cramps. Oswin will know, and it will get them out of the house while we discuss things."

The tall, imposing figure left to do just that, and Aline turned to Cadfael with tears in her eyes. "Cadfael…"

"We will explain, Aline, but first we must get your husband to bed."

Hugh found himself escorted to his room, undressed, tucked in the bed and ordered to sleep. Cadfael then locked him in his room.

"Come," he took Aline's arm gently, "it is a long story."

In the next fifteen minutes, Aline went from tears to anger to tears again, and finally sat numbly.

"I'm sorry, Aline, I should have taken better care of him, I should have kept a closer eye on him," Cadfael rubbed his face, feeling tired to his very bones.

"It's not your fault," Aline replied, "Even if he didn't fully know what he was doing, it was still Hugh who chose to steal your supplies and use them. I know you sent him back last time with a harmless herbal tea. He became distant from me, not sleeping in the same bed anymore claiming he would keep me awake with his restlessness. I knew something was wrong…"

"But I was away," Cadfael shook his head in dismay.

"We will sort out the blame later," Abbot Radulfus said, "You did your best by him, Cadfael, and you, my Lady, have not the skills or experience to recognize what was going on. Even the Lord Beringar himself is not to be held fully accountable, but all of this is of no concern at this moment. We must help him through this, and we must do it discreetly."

"The symptoms are not unlike a heavy flu," Cadfael remarked, "we can simply claim he has contracted it. Everyone has seen him looking pale and thin these past weeks, it will come as no surprise that he has taken ill. The cause of it must remain quiet, but besides the three of us, only Oswin knows exactly what was stolen. He will not question me if I tell him the matter was resolved, nor will he link the stolen poppy juice with the Lord Beringar's illness."

ssssssss

Hugh shivered in his bed, despite the heavy blankets. His body demanded the poppy juice he had been taken for weeks now, but he was locked in. Despite his pain and discomfort all he could do was worry. He had stolen from his best friend and abused his trust. Nothing in the world could ever make that right again.


	5. Chapter 5

"How is he?" Abbot Radulfus asked two days later, when Cadfael had returned to the Abbey to get supplies, rest up a little and pray to Saint Winifred.

"It could be worse," Cadfael responded tiredly, "He has not been in the habit of taking the juice for very long. Long enough, though…long enough."

The heavy sickness Cadfael had once witnessed and was told about in people who had depended on the poppy seeds for many years did not occur, although he almost wish it might. The Sheriff barely slept, and when he did he was plagued by nightmares. By day he often fought and cringed away from imagined horrors, seeing things that were not there. It frightened Aline, and only Cadfael's reassurance that this was part of the brain dealing with the sudden lack of the medicine stopped her from getting a priest to perform an exorcism.

"Would a bloodletting help?" the Abbot asked.

"No," Cadfael shook his head, "that would be dangerous after the wound he has sustained only a short while ago. By letting blood out of the body in a controlled manner, we attempt to restore balance.With the blood he lost then, that balance is already distorted. If we bleed him now, it may prove to be fatal. The hallucinations he suffers from are troubling, but they will pass."

He didn't stay long, and returned to town after a few hours.

Immediately after it had been decided he would stay for a while in the Beringar's house, Cadfael, aided by Aline, had searched every inch of the house for any remaining poppy juice. They had found disturbingly little. It took several days for Hugh to become aware of them again. When the worst had passed, Cadfael returned to the Abbey, carrying his own guilt with him.

ssssssss

"You were a fool, Hugh Beringar! Taking medicines you weren't supposed to? Stealing from Cadfael? Honestly, what WERE you thinking?" Aline hissed, careful to make sure no one heard her.

Hugh had now recovered enough from his ordeal that she deemed it safe to make her displeasure known. The satisfaction she got from letting out her pent-up feelings was soon squashed by the pained, guilty look on her husband's face. She knew that he suffered under the perceived end of his friendship with Cadfael, as well as the sins he committed.

"If you won't go and confess to our own priest," she added, more gentle, "then go to the Abbot. He will hear your confession and there is nothing you need to hide from him."

She leaned over to press a light kiss on his lips. "I love you, you stupid, stupid man."

With a sigh, Hugh leaned closer to her, drinking in her scent and realizing how much he had missed her.

ssssssssss

Abbot Radulfus was not extremely surprised when the Lord Beringar asked for an audience. Nor did he do more than nod in agreement when the request to hear his confession came stumbling from the younger man's lips.

"Come, then, my son," he said calmly, "I sense you are in great need and carry much more guilt than perhaps you ought to."

Hugh sank to his knees in front of the Abbot, the hand resting on his hair helping him to gather his tortured thoughts.

"For…forgive me, Father, for I have sinned."

Radulfus gently encouraged him. "What sins have you committed, my son?"

"Father, you know what I did," Hugh exclaimed in anguish.

"Yet you have to confess them out loud, my son."

"I committed heinous crimes. I desired, and I stole, and I…I betrayed…"

With calm, direct questions Radulfus led him through all that had happened ever since he had recovered enough from his wound to move about.

"…I could still not sleep well…I begged Cadfael for medicin but he would not give me any more, warning me of the danger. I did not heed him, and my need became so great…I do not understand why I did what I did, Father, but in my mind at that time nothing else seemed to be important. Then I learned from Brother Porter that Cadfael had gone again. I did not leave, but went to his workshop. I know how to get into it and I know where he keeps his supplies – I have seen them often enough. I emptied most of the jar in my waterskin and refilled it with water so no one would notice, not until Cadfael returned, which could be weeks. The first night was bliss, but each time I had to drink more to sleep, and I did not know how to stop."

A shiver ran down his spine. "I betrayed Cadfael's trust, and yours, by thieving within these walls, Father. I lost my friendship with Cadfael through my own crimes…"

A sob escaped him, and he quickly lowered his eyes to the floor.

Radulfus frowned, and then made a decision.

"The dangers of poppy juice, so Cadfael tells me, is that the user can become dependant upon it. That is why he prefers not to use it for an extended period of time. His studies and that of his teachers show that those dependant on such medicines are not wholly within their right mind. The blame is not all yours, my son. The actions are yours, and you must fulfill your penance for them, but your heart has not been afflicted. Your crimes were those of an addled and confused mind, not of a vicious and lawless heart."

"Nevertheless, you did steal, and you did cause yourself as well as your wife and brother Cadfael a great deal of grief. Since your crime was against Brother Cadfael, your penance will be to help him out in his workshop for two hours each day, for one week. He has much work to do with his many absences from the Abbey these months."

Hugh looked up in despair. "But Father, Cadfael would not wish to see me, much less allow me in his workshop again!"

"I know you believe that, and undoubtedly it will be difficult for you," Radulfus' face became stern, "but this is the penance I lay upon you. Do you accept it?"

"Y-yes, Father. But please…if Cadfael doesn't want me there…please do not force him."

"That will be a matter between myself and Brother Cadfael," the Abbot reminded him, and then moved on to the absolution.

His voice was kind, soothing Hugh's guilt and horror at his own actions. "May our Lord Jesus Christ absolve you; and by His authority I absolve you from every bond of excommunication and interdict, so far as my power allows and your needs require. Thereupon, I absolve you of your sins in the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Ghost. Amen.

May the Passion of Our Lord Jesus Christ, the merits of the Blessed Virgin Mary and of all the saints obtain for you that whatever good you do or whatever evil you bear might merit for you the remission of your sins, the increase of grace and the reward of everlasting life."

Nevertheless it was a miserable young man who left the Abbot's quarters to find Brother Cadfael in the gardens.

sssssssssss

Cadfael had been pleased with the state of his gardens. Oswin, aided by the schoolboys who had all joined in, infected by their new friends, had done a fair job of keeping the weeds at bay and tending to the plants. Oswin had even already harvested and processed the plants that he knew how to handle. Nevertheless, it left over half the gardens and all of the brewing to Cadfael, and Edmund was desperate to have the infirmary restocked.

He was so deep in thought, planning the schedule of brewing as efficiently as possible, that he almost missed the familiar footsteps on the gravel. When he did, his eyes widened. Hugh hesitated.

"Father…Father Abbot sent me here, to aid you two hours each day for the next week, as my penance," he explained worriedly, "If…if you would tell me my work, so I can be out of your way…"

Cadfael felt his insides twist a little. So Hugh had not come to reconcile – he was sent. Still, perhaps….to have him here each day would give them time to talk, and in time Hugh might even forgive him for allowing him to become addicted.

"All these plants I need to harvest," he pointed, "here is string. I shall cut them, and then you must tie them up in bushels so we can hang them to dry."

They worked in silence for nearly half an hour, then Cadfael, feeling the rain begin, moved them inside. Hugh hardly dared look around, remembering the last time he was here, but Cadfael didn't give him time to dwell on it.

"Take the mortar," he motioned, "and sit at the table. Oswin has taken care of a number of herbs already, and for today's balm I need those," he pointed to a some dried seeds, "in a very fine powder."

It bothered Cadfael greatly that Hugh would not look at him, not initiate any conversation. Even when Cadfael offered him some wine, he only shook his head and continued pounding the seeds to dust. He escaped as soon as he could.

Tired, Cadfael made his way to the church for None.

The Abbot smiled, but his smile faded when he saw Cadfael's face.

"I take it my plan did not start as well as I hoped?"

"Father, I beg you to reconsider your decision. Forcing him to spend time with me will not make him forgive me any sooner!"

The Abbot frowned. "You don't understand, I fear. He is afraid of you, Cadfael. He is convinced his actions are solely responsible for the destruction of your friendship. He thinks YOU do not want him there, that he betrayed YOU and that you will never wish to mend your friendship with him."

Cadfael stood dumbstruck. "But…"

"You are not to blame. Your aim was to heal him. Don't claim guilt that you are not entitled to – the sin of pride is very subtle and can even work through our guilt. When he comes tomorrow you have another chance. You have him for a week, do with it what you can."

sssssssssss

The next day, Hugh said nothing at all, and Cadfael waited, feeling the tension that was building in the younger man. The third day was the same, with little interaction required as they had moved outside to tend to the rest of the harvest. Cadfael didn't mind. He needed that time to come to terms with his own guilt, until he finally could accept that his intent had been to heal, not harm.

On the fourth day, when it rained again, Cadfael was bottling a new potion while Hugh was washing out used pottery. When he had put them away, he stood watching Cadfael for a while, who calmly put the jars away and inspected the freshly dried herbs.

"If Father Abbot forced you into this…" Hugh began, and then halted.

Cadfael turned to him.

"I am not trying to escape my penance." His hand clutched the knife on the table so fiercely that Cadfael took it from his hand to put away. That simple movement, the hand of his former friend touching his own, sent Hugh over the edge.

"I'm sorry, Cadfael. I betrayed you and after this week I promise I shall not set foot in the garden or your workshop again, but I am sorry!"

Cadfael turned. "Not set a foot in this workshop again? Do you mean to abandon me, Hugh Beringar, after so many years of friendship?"

Hugh, who had been working up the courage to continue expressing his regret, was completely cut off by that. His mouth opened and worked, but no sound came out. Cadfael seized the opportunity.

"Do you really think, boy, that one mistake could make me give up on you? Do you think so ill of me? For shame, child! Your sins, so far as they were truly your responsibility, are far from unforgivable."

The Sheriff now looked more like a stricken boy than a brave soldier of King Stephen, and Cadfael simply stepped close, grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him a little.

"If you even DARE to stay away, I will personally come to town to get you. Is that clear?"

"C-Cadfael…"

The monk shook his head and opened his arms. It was time, and Hugh had to come to him, now, or he never would.

After only a moment's hesitation, the smaller man nearly jumped forward. Cadfael was only just in time to catch him before he would overbalance and land them both on the floor.

"What on earth am I to do with you, lad," Cadfael growled good-naturedly as he felt relief fill him.

A small chuckle rose from somewhere in the general vicinity of his left shoulder. "No more 'boy'?"

"Aye, no more 'boy'," Cadfael confirmed, patting the still too thin back before releasing him. "You need some feeding up, too, and that spiced wine you turned down earlier would be a good start."

The overly serious face of the past weeks gave way to the old smirk, and Cadfael couldn't have been more pleased to see it.


	6. Chapter 6

The next morning, Hugh came into the garden a bit hesitatingly. Cadfael saw him approach and smiled.

"Hello, lad. I will be glad for your assistance today, I have finally finished harvesting the ingredients for all ointments and potions needed."

He did notice the slight unease in his friend, but chose to ignore it. Hugh would not get over his insecurities in just one day and from now on, he just needed the reassuring everyday routine he was used to before his injury and illness.

Inside, he set Hugh to chopping and grinding ingredients while he started several potions and mixed a number of ointments. The silence was comforting this time instead of awkward and an hour and a half later, Cadfael bottled three potions, set two others to simmer and took out another flask.

"What do you think of this mix?" he asked, handing Hugh a mug of it, "drink it."

The Sheriff sniffed and tasted. "Ugh." He made a face and tried to hand the beaker back to Cadfael.

Cadfael smiled. "Finish it."

Hugh curled his lip. "It tastes revolting."

"It is also very good for you. Drink it, and I'll pour you some wine."

"Can't you add something to at least hide the taste?" Hugh complained as he drained the cup.

"Yes, but it is too early in the season for the plants I would need for it. Here."

Hugh gratefully took a rather larger gulp of the wine than he normally would and promptly starting choking, coughing helplessly.

Cadfael shook his head and thumped him on the back. "Honestly, where did you learn to drink? Easy now."

"You try drinking something as vile as that!" the younger man protested, "what WAS that, anyway? It tastes like horsepi…"

A stern glare from Cadfael made him stop before he could finish the word.

"This is an extract of several plants that will help you build up your strength. Be sure to eat good solid food over the next weeks – meat and eggs. You've lost far too much weight."

Hugh bit his lip. "I wasn't hungry at all when…when…"

"I know, it has that effect," Cadfael nodded, "that is why we have to get some flesh back on your bones! You'll find that it is much easier to regain your strength with some proper nourishment. If you do not see to it yourself, I shall send a message to Aline."

Hugh held up his hands in surrender. "Please, spare me! I shall follow your every direction as long as you do not set my wife on me."

"Then take this flask of horse urine and drink a cup every day."

Hugh made an urchin's face at him just as brother Jerome entered the small hut. The Sheriff turned bright red and Cadfael bit his lip not to laugh out loud.

The small brother looked down upon them haughtily. "Father Abbot requests your presence, my Lord Sheriff, and yours, brother."

ssssssssssss

Ten minutes later both of them sat in the Abbot's quarters waiting for the man to arrive.

"Brother Jerome's good opinion of me is lost forever, isn't it?" Hugh groaned.

"Undoubtedly. That will teach you to show such disrespect to revered brothers of the Benedictines, you young heathen," Cadfael smirked.

Hugh was about to stick his tongue out at the revered brother but thought better of it. Luckily for him, just in time as the Abbot entered, but not fast enough to wipe the embarrassed expression off his face.

Radulfus smiled indulgently. "Has the good brother here been teasing you, my lord Sheriff?"

"Well, he's making me drink horse…"

"HUGH!" Cadfael exclaimed, shocked.

"My apologies, Father," Hugh bowed his head contritely, shooting Cadfael an impish grin from under his eyelashes.

The Abbot shook his head. "I am glad you are reconciled," he said warmly, "I was concerned."

"Thank you, Father," Cadfael said heartfelt, "for your support."

Hugh turned his head. "I – Thank you," he hesitated. "I know you must have a very poor opinion of me now," he continued, "but I will endeavour to regain your trust, my Lord."

Radulfus kept his gaze for a long time, until Hugh was nearly squirming. "Sins are a serious business," he finally said, and the younger man paled.

Cadfael made to protest, but the Abbot raised his hand to silence him.

"Forgiveness is an equally serious business, or perhaps more so. While sins are sometimes committed in the spur of the moment, forgiveness is always deliberate. You are forgiven, Hugh. Neither Cadfael or myself have done so lightly, nor do we wish to ignore the guilt you feel. But you are forgiven. The slate is clean. As for this town, I still could not wish for a more amiable relationship between law and church, or a better Sheriff to work with, son."

Hugh blushed and ducked his head while Cadfael smiled and nodded in approval.

ssssssss

**Two months later**

Cadfael sat lazily in the warm sun in front of his hut, tired from hours of weeding and brewing, to all appearances fast asleep, when he heard the familiar sounds of boots on gravel. Then quiet.

"Don't you dare, you young rascal," he growled.

His small, dark haired would-be assailant barely started, and dropped the long blade of grass that he was about to use to tickle Cadfael's face with.

"I should know I can never surprise you," he commented ruefully.

"Next time, walk on the grass, not on the gravel," Cadfael advised as he opened his eyes, "I could hear you coming before you turned the corner."

"I'll remember that," Hugh promised as he sank down next to Cadfael on the bench.

"Business with Father Abbot?" Cadfael asked.

"Yes, though nothing serious. I did obtain permission for you to come with me and visit Aline and your godson."

That woke Cadfael up properly. "They are here? I thought they would be spending the entire summer at Maesbury?"

"True, but they came back early. The weather will likely change soon, or so I'm told, and I wanted them back in town before the rain begins."

Cadfael eyed the clear blue sky sceptically. "It is entirely possible, with the heath of the past weeks," he admitted, "at any rate I am glad for it. I miss them when they are out of town."

"Then you will be happy that you have leave to dine with us as well," Hugh grinned.

Cadfael got up, content. "Certainly. I have a present for Giles, I will retrieve it and come with you."

Together they walked towards town, shoulder to shoulder, Hugh's horse trotting behind, and when Giles threw himself into his godfather's arms with an excited scream, Cadfael was absolutely sure everything was once again as it should be.


End file.
